


i have no hometown.

by yoonists



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: M/M, Mentioned Jeon Wonwoo, Mentioned Kwon Soonyoung | Hoshi, Mentioned SEVENTEEN Ensemble, Mentioned Wen Jun Hui | Jun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-26 13:59:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17143070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yoonists/pseuds/yoonists
Summary: minghao has to take a flight back to his "hometown" to visit his mother.





	i have no hometown.

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by the song i have no hometown by hyukoh. i felt like it would fit. sorta in relation to my life

_desolation, isolation_ _  
_ _that means where i stand_

_combination of information_ _  
_ _that means where i've been_

 

minghao sits on his bed, sorting through his wardrobe to decide on what clothes to put in his suitcase. he's done this at least a million times, but it's just as hard everytime. it's a routine by now. every year, minghao receives a letter in the mail from his mother, asking him to come visit. and every year, minghao does. but with much hesitation. and now at nearly 25 years of age, the memories of his “hometown” still makes him somewhat sick. minghao sighs heavily and continues to pack his suitcase.

  


_discomfort of depression_ _  
_ _i know well it's ill_

_but anxiety in reality_ _  
_ _it would never disappear_

 

minghao watches, amused, as mingyu struggles to make him laugh. he and gyu have been in bed all day. minghao can't find the energy to get up. he woke up early(around 4 am) crying and shaken up from the dream he had.

 

around 3:50 am

 

he was sitting in a dimly lit room. the room was barren, filled with only him and the chair he was sitting in. out of his peripheral, he could see a little boy. shaggy black hair, baggy clothes, thin frame. dark eyes wide and mouth set into a small frown. suddenly the boy disappeared, and was replaced with a warped image of his mother. she looked small, fragile. almost like she would break if the wind blew through her.

 

“xiao hao, is that you?” she speaks, in slurred mandarin.

 

the younger version of himself reappears, this time bruised and battered. minghao watches as his mother reaches out to him. she smooths his hair and runs her hand over his bloodied lip. minghao looks in confusion as his mother pulls him into a hug and kisses the crown of his head. and with that his dream fades into darkness.

 

minghao wakes up gasping for air. he feels the back of his eyes start the burn and sits in shock as hot tears roll down his cheeks. minghao can't figure out why he's crying or why it hurt so much to see that. all he can feel is the guilt settled in the bottom of his stomach and pain in his heart.

  


_i know i need to be sure about me_ _  
_ _and i know i need to stop repeating wandering_

 

it's the last days until minghao has to flight out to his “hometown” to visit his mother. it's another morning where minghao had woken up crying from a dream. and this time gyu was there to kiss his tears away and run a soothing hand down his back. later in the day, they went out for a late lunch and stayed over at junhui's apartment to spend some quality time(read as get drunk) with him, wonwoo, and soonyoung.

 

  
_it's hard, it will always be_ _  
_ _i'm fully aware of it_

 

a couple hours later, the rest of the group decided to show up(somehow they all happened to be in seoul at the same time, a rare occurrence) they were all drunk, tangled up in each other and for once minghao remembered what happiness felt like again.

  


_i wanna have falling_ _  
_ _endless dreams again_

 

minghao remembers a time before his life crumbled before his eyes. he remembers a time when his parents never fought. a time where he wouldn't have to lock himself in his room hoping to god that his father wouldn't bust it. he remembers when his parents didn't argue in quiet rushed mandarin hoping their on didn't hear the harsh words his father threw at his mother. he remembers a time where his mother didn't have to always wear long sleeve shirts and sweaters to cover up the bruises on her body.

 

  
_long for the rough texture_ _  
_ _of Chinese old bricks_

 

minghao remembers his childhood home like the back of his hand. the old creaky stairs. the large glass windows. the worn wooden floor. the dusty red brick window sill he used to love sitting in. his mother's old dish cabinet he was never allowed to go in. his bedroom. the heavy front door. he remembers hating going into that house. the creaky old stairs used to get him hit when he came home late. the large windows were always shut. the bedroom door that was battered from being slammed open so many times. the front door that would have him paranoid whenever it opened. the dusty red brick window sill he used to climb out and escape his father.

 

  
_wish i could run on the_ _  
_ _rugged hill of cornfield again_

 

he remembers visiting liao river. running through the fields in the clearings of the forest until his chest hurt. sharing picnics with his mother while his father was away on business trips. he remembers skipping stones and watching the fish swim up and down the river. he remembers sitting in the rain watching as the river filled and rushed by. he remembers running to the forest away from his father the night his life crumbled.

 

  
_i wanna swim in the_ _  
_ _nostalgia of childhood again_

 

minghao often wishes he didn't live life this way. He wishes his mother had left his father before it got to that point. he wishes he had called the police the first time he laid a hand on her. but what could minghao had known? he was only a child. a child with no hometown

**Author's Note:**

> i kinda went overboard with this haha. feel free to leave some commentary.


End file.
